heless, you are Lady Betty
Bulkeley, the Duke of Stanforth's sister, and as such, though in
yourself you are an unimportant little person, it's not impossible that
as a member of your family, these Americans may think you worth
cultivating. One hears that they worship titles."

"I'm sure they can't worship them as much as some people in our own
country, who haven't got them, do," I cried, defending Americans for
Miss Woodburn's sake. "Vic says----"

"Never mind what Victoria says," returned Mother. "The less you think
on these subjects, the better, my dear Betty. I merely hinted at a
possible and partial incentive to these people's friendship for you, so
that you need not feel it incumbent to be oppressively grateful, you
know. I should wish you to keep your dignity among foreigners, even
though you would, of course, look upon Mrs. Stuyvesant-Knox as, in a
way, your guardian. Now I must call Thompson, and have her put me into
my dinner dress, as there is no more time to waste. When Mrs.
Stuyvesant-Knox speaks of your visit, you will know what to say."

I mumbled something vaguely dutiful, and began to dress as quickly as I
could; but the more I thought of it, the more I felt that I hadn't been
fairly treated, to be disposed of in such an offhand way. After all, I
_am_ eighteen; and a person of eighteen isn't a child.

I'm not sure I wasn't pouting when Vic came in, ready for dinner,
asking if she should fasten up my frock. I had nearly finished it, for
practice has made me almost as clever as a conjurer about manipulating
my hands behind my back, but when Vic flew at me and began giving
useless little touches, I guessed that she wanted to whisper something
in my ear without Mother seeing, if she should happen to prance in at
the wrong moment--as she often does.

"Look here, Betty, are you going to be a good little girl, and do what
you're bid, without making a fuss?" she asked, in a quick, low voice.

"I'm not certain yet," said I. "I'm thinking it over. I don't see why I
should be sent off across the water with strangers, at a moment's
notice, and I----"

"'Tisn't a moment's notice. It's five days. They're not sailing till
Wednesday, and as they've a suite engaged,--the best on the ship, Mrs.
Ess Kay says,--your going won't put them out a bit, and they'll _love_
having you. As for the whys and wherefores, Mother's been telling you,
hasn't she?"

"She talked about my health and valuable experiences, and a lot o